


Rated R

by iridescentglow



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentglow/pseuds/iridescentglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll give you a clue." Frank's lips nipped briefly at the curve of Ray's jaw. "Begins with an R..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rated R

Frank was jerking off, with lingering, almost lazy strokes. His eyes were closed, his head leaned against the wall. The bathroom door was open, and his left arm elbowed through the doorframe.

Ray entered at the front of the tour bus. He stopped. Then he continued walking up the aisle. Then he stopped again.

Frank had already lost his shirt during the show. (_Lost_ seemed like an appropriate word, because Frank had seemed genuinely surprised when he had stumbled off-stage and found his shirt gone. However, _torn off_ was also applicable.) Now his pants were peeled down over his thighs. Ray registered faint amusement that just one of Frank's gloves was gone. (Ray imagined him tugging the single glove off with impatient teeth.) The unexpected _nakedness_ of Frank was a little overwhelming.

Not that Ray hadn't seen it all before. The list of things that Ray had _seen before_ was pretty endless at this point, and he was usually good at taking anything new in his stride. With a quick rifle through his mental catalogue, Ray realized he could recall the way in which each one of his bandmates masturbated. Listening to the other four jack off in their bunks was akin to a perverse lullaby by now. The noises Mikey made were almost kittenishly sweet; he expelled squeaky little sighs like the very beginning of his laughter. Gerard was furious, and then ecstatic, and then more furious; he couldn't be quiet if he tried. Bob was impressively reticent, maintaining almost complete silence until a single release of breath as he came.

Frank was…

Frank was… never this _slow_; never this achingly relaxed. Ray took a single step toward him. And then stopped again. With a final flourish, come spilled over Frank's naked hand. He shook his hand in an almost graceful motion, directing most of his semen into the toilet. Finally, he opened his eyes.

"Fuck," he said. "Gerard is such a fucking bastard." He broke into a grin. "Kept rubbing up against me. Really _writhing_ all over me. _Je_sus."

"He was just in a moment," Ray explained mechanically.

"Yeah, well I was in a moment, too." Frank began tucking himself back inside his pants. "A moment where my cock was so hard I thought it was gonna fucking explode." His eyes flicked over Ray's face. "What are you up to?"

"I was just getting a soda." Ray was amazed that his last thought had not been completely siphoned off the surface of his brain. "Do you want one?"

"Sure." Something twinkled in Frank's eyes. "But c'mere a second."

Ray didn't move. Frank tugged at his fly, wiping his hand carelessly on the waistband of his pants as he did so. He left the button undone. Finally, he walked toward Ray. He smiled.

Not to the first time, Ray noted how well they fitted together—Frank able to tuck himself almost perfectly under Ray's chin, his chest leaning against Ray's abdomen, his hip jutting between Ray's legs. Ray looked down. He felt awkward as Frank shimmied easily into his personal space. He couldn't seem to stop staring at the button on Frank's pants.

Frank's hand was still messy with come—he slipped it down past the waistband of Ray's pants. There was a quick succession of soft _ping_s as the buttons on Ray's jeans pulled apart. Frank reached inside, grasping at Ray's cock with both hands—Ray felt sticky fingers of his right hand overlaid by the rough fabric of his remaining glove on his left hand.

"You want me to?" Frank's voice was low, an unsettling mix of pathetic uncertainty and impish suggestion.

"Frank." Ray strove for evenness in his own voice. "You just stuck your hands down my pants. Saying _no_ doesn't seem like—_uhh_—a viable option." Ray felt Frank's laughter reverberate against his chest. Frank began to move his right hand slowly up the shaft of Ray's cock.

Ray allowed himself to be lulled into a simple jerking-off headspace; his usual complacency sparked into new excitement by Frank's hands in place of his own. ". . . Were you thinking about Gerard?" he murmured.

"Nuh," Frank grunted, increasing his grip on Ray's cock.

Something squirmed in his stomach. "Who then?"

"Guess…" Frank exhaled the word, a whisper of hot breath against Ray's neck. For a moment, Ray thought that Frank was going to reach up and kiss him.

Frank had dispensed with his slow, measured strokes. Ray finally allowed himself to thrust without shyness into Frank's hand, forming a rhythm against his quick and merciless fingers.

"I'll give you a clue." Frank's lips nipped briefly at the curve of Ray's jaw. "Begins with an _R_…"

He felt his mind dissolving—he was close to coming. "Ray." His own name spilled automatically from his lips. He was vaguely aware of a sharp strain of Frank's laughter as he finally came a moment later.

Frank did not move away from Ray, recoiling only slightly as Ray came in his hand. Ray felt glad for the continued press of Frank's body against his. Frank's sticky fingers fidgeted absently against Ray's stomach. The non-specific weight of sex in the air mingled with the familiar smell of Frank, filling his senses.

"Kind of conceited, man," said Frank, with mock-earnestness. "Saying your own name when you come." He let out another round of throaty laughter.

The words _shut up_ formed reflexively on Ray's lips, but Frank grinned and Ray couldn't help but smile, too. There was a beat of silence that, to Ray, felt heavy with everything they had never said. Then Frank strained upward, covering his mouth in a kiss.


End file.
